


Memories as Heavy as a Stone

by ladyannabethstark



Category: The 100
Genre: Angst, F/M, Possible Spoilers, mentions of torture, post-2x10
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-29
Updated: 2015-01-29
Packaged: 2018-03-09 13:43:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3251939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyannabethstark/pseuds/ladyannabethstark
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After rescuing their people from Mount Weather, nothing is as it should be.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Memories as Heavy as a Stone

**Author's Note:**

> This is a very angsty take on a possible future set sometime after 2x10 - Survival of the Fittest.
> 
> Title is from Glass Heart Hymn by Paper Route

Clarke’s footsteps were light as a feather, yet they were thunderous to her ears in the silence of the camp. It was early in the morning, too early for anyone to be awake who wasn’t a guard. She couldn’t sleep. Ever since the war was won, a heaviness seemed to settled over Camp Jaha. Only half of the forty-seven came home, Monty, Jasper, and Miller among them. Before, she thought that getting them back would make everything better. Now she knew that she’d been so tragically wrong. Nothing was as it should be.

Octavia was gone more than she was there, bound by her duties to Indra. Lincoln was under the care of the healers along with many others, Sky People and Grounders alike. Raven buried herself in building things, refusing to let herself be seen other than brief glimpses. Jaha was still missing with the dozen people that he took with him, including Murphy. But none of that concerned her near so much as the man that she sent to death, the man who miraculously survived. Bellamy’s physical wounds had healed but the same couldn’t be said of his mental and emotional scars. Ever since they found him curled up in a cage in the depths of Mount Weather, he hadn’t spoken so much as a word.

Pushing the flap of the tent aside, she ducked in only to see him sitting up and staring down at his hands. His shirt was tossed across the room, leaving his scarred skin for her to see. Clarke’s mind screamed at her to look away but she forced herself to look, to memorize the physical manifestation of the horrible fate that she pushed him towards. Bellamy didn’t react to her presence, curling his fingers into fists before straightening them out again.

"I brought you water," Clarke said softly, trying not to startle him.

It was no use. He still flinched at the sound of her voice, raising his head to look at her with a blank gaze. A wave of emotion came over her that she tried her best to shove away. She didn’t deserve to feel any of it when evidence of her cruelty sat before her. Kneeling down, she unscrewed the top of the water and held it out to him.

"How are your hands?" Clarke asked, knowing full well that she wouldn’t get an answer.

The Mountain Men had broken three of his fingers, another offense that they had yet to pay for as they sat in their weakening structure with no source of blood or bone marrow. Sure enough, Bellamy didn’t even give her an indication that he heard her, drinking the water most likely just to satisfy her so that she’d leave. Leaning forward, Clarke took one of his hands in hers, massaging the areas where the fractures were as she watched for any sign of discomfort. Nothing.

"Please Bellamy," she said, giving him a pleading look. "If you’re in pain, I want you to tell me. Give me something."

He pulled his hand from hers, curling and uncurling his fingers once again. She knew that, despite the lack of emotion on his face, this was his way of telling her that he was okay for the moment. The thought of it had her eyes burning with tears. Bellamy wasn’t trying to help himself. Even after all she’d done, he was reassuring her.

"This is my fault," Clarke cried, finally giving into the pull of despair that had been stirring in her chest ever since she saw his state after the rescue.

Tears ran freely down her cheeks as she leaned away from him, knowing that he shouldn’t be seeing her breakdown. Before she could turn away to leave the tent, his hand found hers again. Clarke looked up with surprise as he squeezed it gently. His eyes were staring straight into hers, their dark depths filled with such sorrow and pain that her heart dropped and a fresh sob tore its way out of her chest.

"I’m so sorry," she cried, bringing her hand up to cup his cheek. "I did this to you. I did this."

Bellamy’s eyes softened and he reached out, curling his fingers into the golden strands of her hair. In his gaze, she saw what he was trying to say as clearly as if he’d shouted it. She knew that he didn’t blame her but he still forgave her at the same time. This news was far from comforting. She knew for a fact that she didn’t deserve his forgiveness.

"Say something," she begged, her entire body shaking with the force of her crying. "Say you hate me. Tell me to leave and never come back. Please just say something."

Bellamy shook his head, refusing to say such things. Then he pulled her in, wrapping his arms around her as she pressed her face into his shoulder. Clarke couldn’t believe that she was forcing him to comfort her when he was the one in pain. It was horrible of her but she couldn’t bring herself to leave, even as he rubbed her back soothingly and pressed kisses into her hair. She lifted her head slightly, pressing her lips to his shoulder as she tried to breathe through her tears. Reaching back, she took one of his hands in hers.

"One squeeze for no, two for yes. Do you want me to leave?" she asked hoarsely, closing her eyes as she waited for his response.

A few moments passed before she felt the single squeeze. Clarke waited for a second that never came, letting out a breath that she didn’t know that she’d been holding.

"Do you want to lie down?"

Two squeezes came quickly and she nodded, pulling away. They maneuvered themselves carefully until they were lying side-by-side and staring into each others eyes. Bellamy didn’t let her pull her hand away, keeping their fingers entwined.

"Will you sleep if I stay?" she whispered.

Three subsequent squeezes, causing her to frown a bit.

"You don’t know?" Clarke asked.

Two squeezes.

"Will you try?"

Two squeezes. Leaning forward, she gently pressed her lips to his forehead.

"I’m not going anywhere," she breathed, brushing her thumb over the back of his hand in soft circles.

Clarke kept her promise, listening as his breathing evened out and his body relaxed next to hers. When he woke not thirty minutes later, his body trembling and his eyes wide and panicked, she pulled him close and held him as broken cries tore their way out of his chest before soothing him back to sleep. As she watched his face twist into a grimace, Clarke knew that her fight wasn’t over. But even though it was terrifying and more painful that she could imagine, she had no intention of losing.

**Author's Note:**

> I would love to hear what you think! If you want, come and hang out with me on tumblr. My URL is lady-annabeth-stark.


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